A bleak sky halting the high.
Droplets bounce and illuminate minds.
Slipping south surrounded by sighs.
The trees give up, watch on, and die.
Monotoned musings falter at times.
The Earth looks on with a cheshire smile.
Suffocating in air as the world goes by.
Then look up and ask...why?

I'm locked in a cage.
Half my body spilling out through the bars;
Arms bent, snapped bones piercing through skin,
Stretched out, reaching for the key that gets further away.
Other half still held captive, hidden in the darkness
Of the secret that never wants to be paroled.
I want to escape, but the jagged limbs have formed a knot
And I can neither be pulled out through the gaps of the bars,
Nor back into the depths of repression.
I'm half free and half trapped,
And those two states of being cancel each other out.
I am nothing.

I didn't go to your funeral today.
Wasn't well enough.
Part of me feels guilty, but not because of you,
Just because there's an expectation to go to funerals.
Really, I don't mind though.
I don't mind not thinking 'goodbye' in the direction of a coffin
While a man talks about things I don't believe in.
You and I said goodbye not long ago,
And it's a memory I'll forever cherish.
How fragile you were, yet how strong you became
Under the weight of your mother's death.
How you took my own grieving mother under your arm,
Outstretched in love, and asked her if she'll be OK.
And then you turned and looked at me, called me by name,
Walked over to me and asked how I was.
Said goodbye and gave me a hug.
How much your old personality shone through in that moment,
After years of mental health problems but you were still my auntie Jackie.
I didn't go to your funeral today,
But I've got the best memory of us parting ways.

As you spoke your lies
I can see it within your eyes
the emptiness and sorrow
that builds up inside

While saying ''I'm alright and it's
All fine''

As words run dry
I solemnly sigh.